#i hope you can always find your people in every creative space you enter and i hope ever day you remember your worth!!!

[cloudcountry]

thank you to the three people that tagged me in the twst author spotlight ^^ irene, siren, and sapphy, thank you. i read what you said about me and i was very touched. i didnt think i would gain so many friends in such a short period of time, and you all deserve to be recognized for your contributions to the twst community!! :D

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY FRIENDS.

@tinyletterz, who has a beautiful soul and amazing writing. i've known her since my baby days on quotev writing for a fandom which shall not be named, and it's so such a pleasure being her friend. she writes twst x reader content and has a gorgeous series about flower languages that i think about a lot. thank you remy for helping me get accustomed to tumblr, you're the og!!

@shkrmpp, who was my first mutual that i'd never met before here. thank you for asking about jellyfish and being such a bubbly presence on my dash. shrimpy writes x reader content and creates adorable art!! their hair dye series with the leech twins is super cute and i find myself thinking about teh floyd part in particular very often ^^

@fukashiin, with the prettiest themes and the gorgeous art style. winou CONSISTENTLY writes absolute bangers that make me so giddy. this one in particular is one of my favorites, and her writing style reminds me of a soft summer breeze. she's such a bubbly person and its so fun talking to her, even if we don't talk often. ^^ she's one of the three people that keeps my deuce content afloat.

one could say many things about the beloved @hisui-dreamer!! from the way she adores her friends to teh way she writes, rinna is always soft and sweet. she radiates comfort and is such a soothing person, i feel so safe around her. she writes x reader content and every single piece is its own masterpiece. she's one of my closest friends on here and i wish nothing but the best for her every day.

@merotwst, who has a bucnh of adorable oc content (on @meromessy !!) and writes x readers!! ellie in on haitus right now takinga well deserved break. <3 but she writing is amazing and i am FLOORED whenever i see her art!!! it's literally so gorgeous and i don't understand how she does it. its crazy. how is so much talent in one person.

@siren-serenity is not only a lovely author of x reader content, but also a lovely friend. ^^ siren also has an oc named melody who is so cool!!!! she was the pastor at my wedding and fought TOOTH AND NAIL for that position LMAO love u renren!!! she really writes azul SUPER WELL and im so happy to have met someone so calm and soothing to talk to.

@officialdaydreamer00, aka nutmeg, is a rascal. an absolutely rascal but they're really the best. they have a yuusona with LORE and a bunch of really creative & cute events!! seriously nutmeg, nobody does it like you. if you want to see our favorite twst boys in strawberry dresses or recieve a pair of cute earrings, irene's blog is the place for you!!!

@the-v-lociraptor has STELLAR art. she was one of my firts mutuals on twst tumblr and i was terrified of talking to people but her vibes were very much "i am nice you dont need to be afraid" and sniffling scared me was like "OKAY I CAN TALK TO YOU" LMAO but yeah. she draws people so,,, full. thats the only word i can use to describe it. they just look s soft and alive and its really so amazing. i love her art so much!!

@siphoklansan is another artist!! i think about the art she drew from loona's heart attack with twst character weekly basically. it has been stuck in my brain since i started following her. sippy, its trully beautiful how you mix your culture and your art together. i remember you talking about it when you were drawing fairy gala stuff and it was just stunning. please keep doing what you're doing!! i hope your hiatus proves restful <3

@ceruleancattail is one of THE most creative writers i have ever met on this platform. every time i check out their account theyre talking about a new au or doing something different. they write x reader stuff and ar ethe biggest cater kisser ever (even if they wont admit it hehe!!) their writing is so refreshing, if that makes sense. their butler au is so goofy whaahwwahwah

@moonlit-midnight has the prettiest writing style :((( hannah is literally so sweet and it shows in everything you can find on this blog. THIS BLOG HAS PLATONIC FICS TOO!!!! DID YOU KNOW THAT?????? and even better, they're inspired by hannah's own friendships :((( literally the most wholesome thing. you can find x reader's here!!!

@iseethatimicy is an x reader writer and fellow azul kisser!!! she writes some really cute stuff for oour favorite silly little cephalopod AND AND AND AND HAS SOME OCS!!! THATA ARE SUPER COOL!!!!! shimiko and icy are both so cool and interesting 9EVEN THOUGH IM VERY SHIMIKO BIASED AAAAA I LOEV SIREN TROPES !!!!!)

@ryker-writes IS SO KIND. he gave me the sweetest set of flowers for his garden event :(( i still think about them and aaaaa i havent forgotten when he fought me over me being cool LMAO so goofy wahhwaawh!! HIS OC JAXON AND RIDDLE ARE LITERALLY SO CUTE :((( he writes x reader content & makes oc content!!!

@totallymem3 draws occasionally and omgggg meme's art is gorgeous. HAVE YOU SEEN HER DRAW AZUL. her art is so soft and its honestly adorable :(( meme is such a nice mutual too!!! like i met her on anon a while ago we've been besties ever since fr. HER ART REMINDS ME OF SPRING GO CHECK IT OUT PLEASE!!!!!

@z3llous is SO TALENTED!!!! another mutual that im liek WOW how do you exist??? he creates the most stunning twst fanart :((( THE OCTAVINELLE BIAS IIS SO REAL AND SO SO OBVIOUS BUT WOW.....WOW IS IT GOOD. zell is also a game developer and if you like cute little kitties and adventure games you should totally try it out here!!!

@cecilebutcher MAKES THE BEST OCS. creator of igor and saver of the universe. im not kidding igor saved the universe IDC WHAT YOU SAY ITS CANON TO ME. cece i sliterally the sweetest and soososososo creative i am eating up every crumb of igor content i get fed. OM NOM NOM. ofc junto is nice too and hes so sweet!!! GAHH you just put so much love and care into yoru ocs its so admirable :((((

@ang33333333l is another azul kisser that i became mutuals with a while ago!!! dolls love for sebek and azul is very sweet to see and her yuusona fauna is adorable too!! she also draws her yuu and characters sometimes!! :D she doesn't have a lot of oc content up on dolls blog yet but im looking forward to seeing more!! >:D

@leonistic deserves the most underrated writer of the year award. soru writes x reader content and is another super sweet mutual of mien (I KNOW IM SAYING THAT A LOT OKAY.) she writes aroace content and its literally feeds me. seriously. their aroace azul content makes me giggle and kick my feet and GAHHHHH !!! plus they have the patient to do matchups which is crazy and i love them for that ^^

@rains-asleep is the nickname master because he calls me straubs and thats such an adorable nickname :(((( HIS WRITING IS SUPER CUTE AND IT GIVE SME SO MUCH SEROTONIN (they write x readers btw!!!!!) they recently hit 500 followers (CONGRATS AGAIN!!!!!) and they also write for haikyuu, mha, genshin impact, and obey me!!!

@shinysparklesapphires is an artists that has a lot of cool ocs!! i believe navi was the first one i was introduced to and he's such an icon ^^ sapphy is also really into precure and produces a lot of content for the fandom!! i have yet to finish the precure series she recommended to me but its good so far and laura is the best so true!!

@datboredpencil has THE most STUNNING art. if you want idia x cater content this is DEFINITELY THE BLOG FOR YOU!!! each piece has so much love poured into it and i swear. YOURE ALWAYS LIEK "its a work in progress" BUT IT STILL LOTS SO LOVELY :((( YOUR USE OF COLOR IS JUST SO MUAH!!! CHEFS KISS!!!!!!! I ADORE IT

@twistwonderlanddevotee makes really pretty backgrounds!!! i actually used the isaac one she made for my private account AND ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT I WANT TO EAT IT SWALLOW IT WHOLE MUNCH ON IT SHAKE IT AROUND LIEK A DOG TOY ANYWAYS. i am very normal about sofia's backgrounds. PLEASE GO CHECK THEM OUT its literally so unique?? like who else makes backgroudns liek sofia. Nobody.

@queen-shiba has an open inbox everyone!! you're welcome to send in requests!!! ^^ the queen of savanaclaw makes oc content for chuki, a really sweet kid taht deserves all the cookies in teh world :((( ALSO!!! she has an au for the tsavo man-eaters which is super cool!!! :O she passion for lions and tigers really is admirable and its nic eto see her talk about them :3

@beeirdos-buzzing-bogaloo has a gift when it comes to making ocs!! thule remains my favorite of the ones he has talked about because his design is just so neat!!! I LOVE THAT HIS NICKNAME FROM ROOK IS "MONSIEUR STARGAZER" :((( you have so many ocs that i havent even heard about yet...so im super curious to see what else you put out!!!

@dove-da-birb IS SUCH A GENIUS. they're one of my closests friends and their writing is SO BEAUTIFUL. they're also kidn of a little shit though so watch out /aff tehy write x reader content and draw sometimes, although i dont think theyve posted any of them. ^^ dove is SUCH a delight i promise you'll have fun every single time you talk to them. their energy is infectious and im genuinely really glad im the main target for their chaos. i would not have it any otehr way.

@ashipiko has such delicious art!!! the colors are always so vibrant and the way she draws is so unique. truly, a staple of both the twisted wonderland and as3! fandoms!! her energy is always upbeat and cheery, its hard not to smile when youre talking to her!! truly the biggest ace kisser on thsi platform (probably in the world too hehe)

@shyhaya writes for a myriad of fandoms!!!!!! hayami writes an azul thing for me that made me lose my mind IT WAS SO GOOD. PLEASE check out this blog. you wont regret it. requests are open!! ^^ even twst content aside, im sure you'll find something you like sich haya writes for so many fandoms!! talk about multitalented :3

@thehollowwriter has so many gems. quinn writes every character in twst so well, teh writing is so immersive and just ughhhh MUAH!!!!! every piece with azul in it is such a banger and it makes me giggle and kick my feet :3 LITERALLY THERE IS SO MUCH X READER FLUFF AND ITS ALL GOOD ITS A CRIME I DIDNT FIND THIS BLOG SOONER.

@cyath, who has some of the PRETTIEST art i have EVER seen. they draw stuff based on my fics all of the time and i adore it so much. examples of their art can be found here, here, here, and here. do you understand what i mean. do you get it. their art style is SUPERIOR and i ADORE IT!!!!!! they truly have so much talent like damn save some for the rest of us hello!!!!!

@crheativity writes twst x readers!! she's a beginner writer so PLEASE PELASE SHOW HER SOME LOVE!!! right nwo she has some heartslabyul content that i havent gotten around to reading yet but i am SUPER excited to go through them when i get the chance!!! rhea is super fun to talk to hehe <3

and lastly, @jade-s-nymph who organized this whole thing!!! rubia is on hiatus right now but i've seen some of her projects and a few of the things she's written and they're all really good!! there's a lot of x reader content on her writing blog and self indulgent nymphleech content on her personal blog :3

#twst spotlight #whew its finally finished!!!!! #honestly you all are so talented #thakn you so much for talking to me ^^ #you all have been the cause of many smiles and tons of laughter ove the few months ive been here #no fandom has left such a positive impression on me in so little time #you guys are people to remember #every single one of you #and its sappy as HELL i know LOOK AWAY IF YOU DONT WANT SAPPY AUBURN #but teh way you all support each other and talk about things and connect is just so effortlessly beautiful #im so happy that ive been accepted into such a lovely group #im in awe of you all every single day #i hope you never lose the courage and motivation to do what you love #writing and art and anything else aside #i hope you can always find your people in every creative space you enter and i hope ever day you remember your worth!!! #its so amazing how our brains work and give us so many ideas and how we can just put those into words on onto a canvas for other people #this took forever so i will go take a break now but seriously you guys are all amazing

[thief-of-eggs]

I missed the actual date (oops) but it has officially been a year since I started writing!!! (Long post ahead, bear with me)

I have always been an avid reader, and consequently, an avid fanfic consumer. I fall deep into each fandom I enter, and my beloved comfort characters have gotten me through the toughest of times.

That being said- I had not written creatively before starting to write fanfic last year. I’d written essays for school, and that was where my writing experience ended. Back in middle school I had to write a few short stories as homework, and I’d never attempted to write anything more.

Last year I decided I wanted to start contributing to fandoms, instead of just consuming. I’ve always held headcannons and mini scenes in my mind, my fuel to get me through boring days and to help put me to sleep at night, but I’d never shared any. I was scared. Intimidated. Worried that I wouldn’t be good enough, worried that I wouldn’t be able to enunciate exactly what I was envisioning.

Eventually I decided fuck it- if I sucked then I sucked, but hopefully I could make one or two people smile with my works. (At the very least, I’d make myself smile)

I did not expect to find the amount of support that I have from you all. I also did not expect to find something I am so passionate about- that being writing and sharing my silly little stories with you all.

One year later and I’ve amassed 322k published words on AO3. I’ve posted 67 works, have written for dozens of pairings and relationships. I’ve used the tag “emotional hurt/comfort” more times than I’d expected (how many times can I break and mend my own heart with a fic?)

I didn’t know how what I was doing when I started. I didn’t know any writing tips, or how best to outline a story, etc. I still don’t know what I’m doing, but I can certainly say I’ve gotten better over this year. I’ve learned through practice alone- hours and hours and hours of it. And maybe I’m doing something right- because a year later, and I’ve collected 379 personal subs to my AO3 account. 379 people who get an email each time I upload a new work (which is the most frightening thing I’ve ever experienced, the most daunting thing in the world, but god do I appreciate every single one of you-)

I know that celebrating a year of writing is rather silly. But I wanted to thank each and every one of you who has read my works, who has commented and left kudos. If I made any of you smile then my initial goal has been reached- and that’s all I could ever hope for.

I guess I’m also posting this to say- if you want to write, please write. Please share your silly headcannons with the world. Please write the stories that you want to see. Change the endings to your favorite books, make your ship set sail, write that missing scene that you’ve always imagined.

It doesn’t matter if you’re good. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never written before. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have a laptop or a properly set up space to write (I do it all in the notes app of my phone, from the convenience of my bed!)

Nothing else matters as long as you have a story to share- and I promise there are people out there waiting to hear it <3

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfic things #fanfiction #writer #fanfic writing #ao3 author #fanfic authors #author #writing #ao3 things #ao3 stats

[poisonnxkki]

Witchcraft & Beginning The Journey✨

How I Started:

I spoke about this briefly but I'll go into more detail here. Witchcraft was not something that I just found and dove straight into. I took many years for me to develop my beliefs and at some point I just ended up on this path. I believe that even if I had to redo this life 100 times, I would always find my way back to witchcraft. As a child, I was raised Christian but I never really believed in it or felt like I belonged in that community. Around 12-13 I found alternative forms of spirituality (this was also when I was given unsupervised internet access... coincidentally). At the time, people were posting random beliefs on the internet and I tried to absorb everything (but wasn't really sure what I agreed with). As I got older, my interests began to change as well. I went from reading random "spiritual" quotes to learn about the history of religion and about different ancient cultures. Eventually I stumbled onto witchcraft and at first I thought it was a joke. Of course I loved the idea of witches and potions but I couldn’t really wrap my head around the concept. The idea kept popping up though as I scrolled through my corner of the internet and eventually it was all I was looking into.

Witchcraft became the space that I had needed all those years ago and allowed me to exercise my creative freedom. I could follow my interests, pick up concepts that resonated with me and really tailor my spirituality in a way that other religions wouldn’t allow. Everything felt unique, personal and reflective of what I wanted for myself. There are those who believe health consists of three things, body, mind & spirit. Without witchcraft my mind and spirit were lacking. It has helped me find hope, provided my spirit with a place it can flourish and now provides me with a community I can share my experiences with (& I'm really grateful for that).

Titles & Self-Confidence:

People who call themselves beginners often do so because they are either just starting (in which case the title works) or lack confidence in their skills. Regardless of what you call yourself, there is a lot of fear mongering targeted towards "beginners" in this community. Additionally, the imposter syndrome we face in regards to our own abilities or skills can be just as detrimental to our confidence as the fear mongering. I have named this experience "the beginner’s block" because it feels like something that everyone goes through when they are first starting out in witchcraft.

Most people who enter this community don't want to look foolish and so before experimenting with witchcraft, they try to do as much research as possible. There are even those in the community who recommend researching for x amount of months before beginning. I can't say that I'm a fan of that idea because, like anything else, experimenting is how we learn and grow. It is also how we build confidence in our skills to begin with and no amount of research can teach that.

The reason the title of beginner felt like it was weighing me down is because I used it to cover up my fear of being wrong. If I was wrong about something, if I didn't fully research something, if someone knew more than me on a specific subject, I could just say I was a beginner and not feel ashamed. Since abandoning that title I've realized that there is no need to be right all the time. No need to know everything about every subject and no need to question my skills. Being confident, regardless of how long you've been practicing, and being able to learn from your mistakes are probably the most important lessons I learned from the beginner’s block.

Topics for Your Book of Shadows/Grimoire:

🖤I'm purposefully not going to mention definitions or topics that are used for reference (like herb correspondences) because they are things that you can always look up on demand. I'm focusing on topics that might take a bit more time to really research and maybe point you towards your path. Pick and choose which topics interest you, don't feel like these are mandatory or necessary.

The history of witchcraft

Types of magic/witchcraft (Draconic, Green, Kitchen, etc.)

The history and mythology of your country/background (beware of closed practices)

The 4 basics (cleansing, protection, banishments & warding)

References for divination (personal gnosis, guidebooks, etc)

Ethics in witchcraft (depends on if you follow a structured belief system like wicca or not)

Plants/animals in your local area

The differences between spirits, deities, dragons & daemons (if you plan on doing any deity/spirit work)

Physical witchcraft (with ingredients) vs non-physical witchcraft (& which method you prefer)

Recipes/spells that you want to try

Shadow work prompts (if you plan on doing shadow work)

Social media witches that inspire you (Youtube, Tumblr, TikTok, etc.)

*All images are from Pinterest*

#witchcore #witch aesthetic #witch community #witchcraft #witches #paganism #occult #deity work #deity worship #hellenic pagan #baby witch tips #witch basics #beginner witch #baby witch #book of shadows #grimoire #pagan witch #practitioner #pagan #witchcraft 101 #witchblr #magick #witchyvibes #witchtok #witch tips #witch tumblr #helpol #hellenic paganism #hellenic polytheism

[orangeblogaus]

Office Interior Design Ideas To Create A Productive Work Environment

When I was a little girl, my mom would always tell me that the key to creating an organized home was in the details. And while this certainly applies to our living spaces, it's just as relevant when you want Top office designs. Creating the right kind of space can help you and your employees be more productive and happy at work, so here are some tips for making sure your office feels comfortable and inspiring:

Create a focal point

- Create a focal point. The best way to create an office space that is both functional and aesthetically pleasing is by using large pieces of furniture such as desks, tables and chairs. This will help you to create a comfortable work environment for your employees by giving them enough room to move around in their seats without feeling cramped or too close together. - Use artwork on the walls instead of posters or calendars (unless they're really good). Artwork can be used in many ways: framed photos from vacations or other events; paintings created by family members; original pieces made by friends who are artists--the possibilities are endless! Since artwork tends not only look great but also make people feel better when they look at it every day at work (who doesn't love looking at beautiful things?), it's definitely worth considering this option when decorating your office space

Keep it clean and organized

A clean, organized workspace is an essential component of a productive office. A messy environment can be distracting and make it hard to focus on the task at hand. Additionally, a disorganized space can lead you to waste time looking for things that you've misplaced or forgotten about--time which could have been spent actually working!

Cleanliness is also important because it shows respect for yourself and your colleagues. When people come into your office and see stacks of papers piled up in corners, they'll know that you don't care enough about yourself or them as individuals (and probably won't want to work with someone like that). If everyone keeps their spaces tidy and clean, then everyone benefits from increased productivity levels across the board!

Add pops of color

I'm sure you've heard that color can affect your mood. It's true! Adding pops of color to your office space will help you to feel more energized, focused and productive. Use bright colors to enhance the mood: If you have a team of creative people who need some inspiration in their lives, try using vibrant hues like reds or oranges. These warm tones will make them feel excited about their work and ready for anything that comes their way! Use color to create a sense of playfulness: If you have employees who are always joking around at work (which is definitely not a bad thing), add some fun into the mix by incorporating playful elements like bright green walls or colorful artwork throughout the space--this way everyone will be able to laugh together while they're getting things done!

Use natural light to your advantage

- Use natural light to your advantage. Natural light is always a good thing, especially if you can find a way to use it in a way that makes the room feel larger than it actually is. - Create a focal point. This doesn't have to be anything major--simply adding some artwork or an interesting piece of furniture could do the trick! Just remember that whatever item(s) you choose should be something that will draw people's attention when they enter the room and keep them engaged while they're there. Conclusion Whether you're looking for new ways to improve your office environment or just want some inspiration for your next project, we hope that these tips will help! Office interior design can be a lot of work, but the payoff is worth it. By taking some time to think about what you want and how best to achieve it, you can create an environment where people feel comfortable working hard while also having fun. Read the full article

#hybridworkplaces #OfficeInteriorDesign #workplacestrategy

[dalloga]

hey! hope it's okay to just ask stuff about language and culture haha but I always wondered how Koreans don't find it awkward to use honorifics with family/partners? My language (German) also has a formal and informal way to address people though not as nuanced and I'd never use formal speech for someone only 1 year older than me but to me formal speech is ofc about respect but it also creates a distance btw me and that person so using it for a loved one is unthinkable to me ...

Hello anon!

These kind of questions about language and culture are actually very welcome here because as a literature student, I'm fascinated with both of those things.

Personally, I think the existence of honorifics/formal language in Korean creates so much creative potential for how the social bonds between people are articulated and developed. Having that kind of strict structure that underpins all relations establishes these very clear-cut boundaries which are then either kept or crossed with every interaction, every address, every sentence you communicate because, to a certain level, the basic elements of how that sentence is constructed announce your relation to the person you're addressing.

The decision to drop formalities (ie. between friends) or reversely, the decision to put formalities back on (ie. in an argument, or after a breakup) then becomes a moment where the status between personal relations is being negotiated — a kind of signal of entering into a new intimate space or exiting it, navigating and tracking that movement through language.

Personality plays a big role here too, with some people finding formalities more awkward (and therefore wanting to relax them as soon as they can) while others finding the absence of formalities awkward instead (and therefore preferring to keep them in place even when it's not needed). Other factors like age, social class, circumstantial context for the relation, etc all play into the decision of whether or not to invoke formalities, with the additional note that none of this is fixed or determined. That there are always exceptions, always contradictions, always changes, and that's what makes the interplay between language and culture so interesting.

I guess what I want to emphasize with all of this is the immense potential for nuance that a designated formal language introduces, and how so much of its expression depends on the diverse agency of the people who use it or choose not to. Because honorifics and formal language are a form of measuring respect and distance, there's a lot interesting ways that it can then be played with and manipulated for various effects. The flirtatious/comedic/slanderous potential of various honorifics and forms of formal language, for example. It's all part of what I think makes Korean such an interesting and rich language to use and study.

#i went on a ramble there but the short answer to all of that would be: #honorifics mean different things to different people #both in the sense of who's using the honorifics and who the honorifics are used for #and also that the use of polite speech and the expectation of polite culturally specific behavior is taught from a young age #so it's a natural part of how we understand our position in the community and our relationship to others #with our continued participation in this shared cultural understanding being more deliberate/nuanced as we get older #culture #language

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk fic #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #mine

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #original writing #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writersconnection #writersofig #writersofinstagram #writings

[blanknamed]

trial and error pt. 3 [senku x reader]

I had a lot of issues writing this chapter for some reason. I think I ran out of creativity for a good few weeks so I kinda struggled trying to keep Senku in character. I really just wanted to get the third chapter out though so I hope you like it!

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER THREE: FINDINGS

He was standing near his base by the time [Name] was done. From the looks of it, he had tried to dress up as well, even if it looked like the littlest effort was made. His hair stayed as big as it was, but what seemed to be a makeshift bowtie was settled on his neck (albeit lopsided, but [Name] didn’t really expect much from him in the first place).

“Jeez, who dressed you up, the local village boys?” She asked once she was within hearing range with Senku.

Scowling, Senku only shook his head. Flicking the strip of rag around his neck, he said, "Chrome and the bumbling fools of guards obviously haven't gone on dates before."

"I don't think you have much room to talk. Besides I’m pretty sure that was obvious," [Name] replied humorously, remembering when Ginro couldn't even look her straight in the eye during her and Senku's first few months at the village. "Why would you ask them of all people anyways?"

Senku raised his eyebrow, as if finding the question peculiar. "Who should I have asked?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the married men in the village?" [Name] suggested, watching as Senku furrowed his brows even more. Giggling, she shoved his shoulder. "So much for being a genius. What, were you so nervous to go on this date with me you forgot something as simple as retrieving data from the most obvious people?"

Senku rolled his eyes. "I'm busy with other things--saving the world from going back another thousand years in society, being one of them.” He reasoned as he turned his head away from her.

[Name] only laughed at him, pushing him to forward so they can start walking towards the woods. “Let’s just get this date other with, shall we? You didn’t forget to plan, I’m presuming?"

“Of course I didn’t. Do you take me for some idiot or something?” Senku asked as he peered at the younger girl, who only gave him a knowing look. Instantly, he shook his head. “No don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” [Name] trailed off. “Remember when you were so caught up in one of your projects you ended up putting too much laundry detergent in your washing machine?”

That day had been burned into her memory--it had probably been the only time she’d seen Senku visibly panic over something so mundane. They were helplessly watching the washing machine shake violently and become a soapy mess in it’s little area for almost an hour until Byakuya came home to a disgustingly sweet smelling hallway and two elementary school children covered in bubbled up laundry detergent from head to toe. 

“Don’t remind me; I smelled like laundry detergent for two months.” Senku muttered.

“It was funny, though. Definitely took thoughts away from my dad and brother.” [Name] replied happily. She didn’t need to turn her head to see that Senku had immediately spun his head toward her at the mention of her father.

A warm silence followed between them, no doubt Senku was thinking of something to say--should he say something about it? Should he brush it off? Senku had known [Name] enough to know that, while he never took anything like emotions too seriously, she wasn’t exactly emotionally attached to much either. He didn’t doubt for a second that [Name] thought about her family during those late night preparations she partook with him when Kohaku or Chrome couldn’t stay up past the 20th hour like they did.

He also didn’t doubt that she had done the same thing he had done once she thought her family over--understand the probabilities of seeing her mother and finding her father and brother’s grave were most likely slim and choosing to focus the task at hand: saving the world from total chaos at the hands of Tsukasa and his wildlings. So, she kept it silent, just like she always did.

Should I even mention anything about that? He wondered to himself as he helped her walk down a narrow junction between some large trees. They’d known each other long enough to understand each other without much verbal communication. Even after not having much contact once Senku entered middle school along with the whole thousands of years of being petrified in time, they still had a weird connection with each other. Maybe that was why he decided to free [Name] of her stony confindes; no one else could read his mind or understand what he’s thinking like she does.

Whatever route he took, it wouldn’t be awkward, he finally concluded when they reached the river. He let [Name] hop on the rocks that stood above the water before following suit. “Right, that was the day they got into that car accident.” He stated once they reached the other side.

[Name] hummed. “Mom was stuck at the hospital all day and wanted to take me with her; I couldn’t bear the smell there. It was too clean. So I went to your place thinking you might need something since you’re so useless--OW!” She rubbed her head as she glared over at Senku, who looked the other way, acting as if he hadn’t just slapped the back of her head so hard it made her hair flip over her head. “Anyways, I thought you needed me for something and apparently you did, but I don’t think an eight year old could have done much if a ten year old couldn’t do anything except stand around and watch the mess. It was funny, though. Mom and I laughed about it after a few years.”

“Glad to know my endless suffering and pure shock brought joy.” Senku said sarcastically, though [Name] could pick up the light heartedness behind it.

Elbowing him lightly so he can turn to look at her, [Name] smiled at him. “Well just so you know every time I think of the dad and brother, I also think of you with a bubble beard right after.”

Senku, for a moment, felt something turn before he wrinkled his nose. “Did you just family zone me? During a date?” He asked disgustedly. It was his turn to get a slap on the back of his head.

“Seriously? That’s what you took away from that?” [Name] asked, irritated. She decided to look forward as they kept walking, however it seemed as though they walked mindlessly through endless amount of trees. “Where are we going anyways?”

“Just a few more feet. There’s a clearing close by; I think you’d like it.” Senku said as he nudged her forward.

[Name] covered her eyes as she began to notice leaves becoming lower and lower to the point that she had to duck and sometimes even squat to get through some spaces. Man, if I knew this would happen, I would’ve worn something besides this kind of dress, she thought reluctantly as she watched the ends and edges of the dress get dirtied. Still, she persisted as she had been curious as to what the clearing had looked like. She hadn’t gone so far in terms of exploring for the past few weeks; winter was coming and Senku needed every available person possible to help prep the village for the freezing season. She spent hours lining and sewing furs onto their cloaks and coats to the point that she left little prick marks on her hands permanently.

“Okay, we’re here.” Senku announced once they both managed to stand again. Shaking a few leaves away from her head, [Name] looked up to see a green clearing, like Senku said. However, he never said how… Ethereal it was. Wild flowers, ones she vaguely recognized to be new versions of flowers from the past, spread across the spanse of the field. Lightning bugs flicked and glowed every now and then, being the main source of light besides the makeshift lantern Senku was currently crafting beside her.

“Whoa,” was [Name]’s only response. “Don’t tell you found this last minute just for a date, Senku.”

A snicker followed right after. “No. I found it a few months ago when trying to collect foxtail millet for the noodles. Let’s keep walking, though. This isn’t what I wanted you to see.”

It’s not? [Name] thought as she let Senku lead her further past the clearing, walking around the flowers as best as possible. The walk was silent, which surprised [Name] since Senku sometimes never did keep his mouth shut when it came to his little experiments. Could it be he's taking this date more seriously than she expected? She let that thought cross her mind as she watched him walk ahead of her. Not possible. If anything, he might just be keeping things a secret since I'm the test subject. [Name] thought to herself. Why would he even take this seriously in the first place?

"Look I know this is a date and all, but could you not glare at me?" Senku finally piped up, looking at his companion warily. "You look like you're about to plot my murder?"

"Who said I haven't already?" [Name] quipped, finally shaking herself from her thoughts. "Anyways, where did you take us, Casanova?"

She laughed as she watched Senku's face scrunch up in disgust at his nickname. He opened his mouth, ready to spew an insult before he stopped himself, staring at the shorter girl. Sighing, he just waved a hand forward. "Look above you."

"Above…?" [Name] questioned as she craned her neck. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the lightened sky above her. Of course, she's had plenty of nights where she stood outside to marvel at the stars and sky--she had never seen it so bright pre-petrification. She had thought that was the brightest and clearest she'd ever seen when she was in Senku's observation tower. 

That is, until today.

"It's so… So…" [Name] started, but couldn't quite put her words together. She felt Senku brush up against her shoulder as he finished for her.

"Beautiful." He complimented as he stared up as well. 

The sky was littered with various shades of purples, pinks, and blues. There wasn’t a coud in sight, which allowed the stars to litter across the dark plain above them. Faintly, she can make out certain constellations, pointing out the ones she wasn’t too sure to her companion, who nodded in confirmation to all of them.

"Who knew we'd get to see the sky as non-polluted as this." Senku said as they continued to keep watch over the sky.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." [Name] laughed. "I thought the observation tower was something else, but you really outdid yourself here, Senku. I didn't even expect you to walk this far without having you get carried by Chrome or something."

"Killing the mood." Senku replied, flicking her forehead, though [Name] made sure to take notice of his shortened breath he tried to hide. She pretended to feign ignorance even further when she let him walk behind her, catching his breath behind some bushes and then shuffling around until he finally brought a basket out.

"Suika should've given better instructions on where to find this thing." The spiky haired scientist said. "It looked like it got buried under a bunch of dirt instead of sitting plain out in the open like she said."

Senku opened the lid, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out two bowls of his notorious green ramen, wrapped tightly in large leaves to keep it from spilling. With it came a makeshift picnic blanket (though, it just looked like old scraps of dresses sewn together over the years; no doubt Suika had asked one of the older village women if she can borrow it). Together, they worked to keep the blanket down, placing heavy rocks at the corners to keep it from flicking upward since the wind picked up a little stronger from where they placed themselves.

"This ramen tastes gross." Senku groaned once he settled down, though it didn't stop him from continuing to eat it. [Name] only rolled her eyes as she ate it herself (though she did have to agree with Senku; the ramen was gross, but she put up with it anyways), basking in the windy air.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet about the information you’ve gathered for this date,” [Name] said. “Usually you relay the data to me once you get it all down."

“Can’t exactly tell the subject about the data I’m gathering about them.”

“Oh but you’re dying to tell me, aren’t you?” [Name] pushed. Truth be told, she was more curious on just how exactly he thought of the experiment. Sure, she had been the one to suggest it, but she had zero idea on what his plans are--what were his variables? Was he gathering information? Was he including numbers or was all of this just pure observation? There was no doubt in her mind that someone was observing them as well; most likely Kohaku since she’s better off at hiding and watching without being noticed once.

“Maybe. I’ll tell you after I’m done with this whole experiment.” Senku replied as he took a sip of the water packaged with them before handing it off to her. [Name] took it graciously, taking a few sips as she thought about his wording.

Quirking up her eyebrow curiously, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be tonight?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Senku confirmed. “You think one night will determine this whole thing? It might take more days actually--a few weeks even. I’ll gather all my information, relay it to you, and then confirm whether or not love is just a construct of emotions for me. Which it will be, from the information I’ve gathered.”

[Name] watched him in disbelief. There was no way she actually heard that correctly. Weeks? How’s that going to work? Would I even last a few weeks managing to go on more dates with this idiot? She questioned. “Wha-- I-- Don’t you have a grandiose plan that requires all your time and attention?”

She only received a shrug as an answer. What the hell does that even mean? She questioned herself as [Name] watched Senku stretch. He was the one repulsed by the idea of going on a date. Why would he extend this to weeks? She let herself wonder, pulling all the probable possibilities as to why he decided it so suddenly. Sure, Senku was right about not being able to gather enough information from just one date, but he could have easily just done one or two more nights of their little experiment dates instead of presuming it down to a matter of weeks.

Finally it finally hit [Name]: he was hiding something. What it was exactly, she’s not entirely sure, though she knew Senku was probably planning something stupid that could most likely put him in danger, or worse killed, which in turn would cause her to intercept and talk him out of it. He was probably using this date shenanigans to distract her from his death inducing plans.

Squinting her eyes at him, she decided to hold back on her on findings. After all, if he isn’t bothering to tell her what he’s gathering on her, she’ll do the same. Instead, she sighed, opting to make it seem as if she should have known. “You’re unbelievable.” [Name] replied.

“Oh, I know. That’s what gets you on your toes right?”

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#senku ishigami x reader #senku x reader #dr. stone #dr. stone senku #senku ishigami #ishigami senku #ishigami senku fanfic #ishigami senku x reader #senku fanfic #fanfiction #dr. stone fanfiction #dr stone #dr. stone fanfic #dr. stone x reader #x reader #senku ishigami fanfiction #senku #ishigami #ao3 #ao3 work #arielle's fics

[arvandus]

Hello! Happy 750!!! So I have this OC with a singing quirk. She’s basically like Giselle from enchanted where she can control the people and animals and occasionally plants and wind with just her voice. However she processes everything around her as music so it’s constantly playing in her head and gives her severe insomnia. She’s also a member of the LOV so I was wondering what her interactions with each of the members would be like but mostly Dabi. Would they find her annoying or fun? Up to you

Thank you! It took me a little bit to dwell on this one, because the idea is so interesting! But I finally got hit by the Inspiration Imagination, and here we are! I hope you like it; I've adjusted it to x Reader per your request, and I hope you don't mind I took just a little bit of creative license for the Reader's perspective and how to describe her quirk.  I also kept it very Dabi-focused in the interest of time.

Dabi x F!Reader w/ a singing quirk (SFW)

💙 It would be a rocky start at first. Dabi would have difficulty trusting you, simply because your quirk is so powerful. Anything that could potentially take away his free will would make him mistrustful and want to avoid said threat like the plague - or remove it entirely.

💙 But Shigaraki says you’re off limits, so he settles to keep you at arms length while at the same time keeping a close watch on you. One wrong slip, and he’ll handle you himself (or so he tells himself).

💙 He also mistrusts you because… well… as a fellow insomniac, he knows that you’re up at all hours of the night. He’s not sure why, of course… he never knocks on your door to ask. But he hears you shuffling around in your space, pacing in your room. What could possibly keep you up so late every single night? What’s got you looking so exhausted every day as if you never sleep? He’s convinced that you’re a spy, somehow sending messages to their enemies when everyone is asleep. Except he never hears you leave your room. Never hears you talking to anyone. So there must be something he’s missing.

💙 You’re an enigma to him, and it drives him crazy. Dabi doesn’t like unknowns.

💙 On your end, Dabi drives you nuts. He’s an asshole, every word that falls from his mouth laced in backhanded compliments and passive-aggressive accusations. You’d come close to using your quirk on him on many occasions, just to make him shut up or leave the room. Fortunately for Dabi, you have a personal code of honor that you abide by, and controlling people through your singing is only reserved for your enemies.

💙 He’s not your enemy… not yet at least.

💙 You know why he doesn’t trust you, and you don’t blame him… and he's certainly not the first person to be suspicious of you. But does he really gotta be such a dick about it? You try to be upfront with him, to explain that you live by a code and he’s safe from your quirk, but it makes little difference. Dabi doesn’t trust easily, and promises mean very little to him.

💙 His trust is finally gained when you use your quirk to save him and the other league members from certain death. There’s nothing quite like the sensation of hearing the beautiful notes of your voice while in freefall and then feeling himself being caught on a strong wind current, only to be set safely on the ground seventy meters below.

💙 After that happens, he begins to take an even greater interest in you, but this time with more curiosity and less mistrust.

💙 He starts poking and prodding, some questions being asked directly, while others are only implied. After all, he loves his little mind games, and even more so, he loves getting under your skin, especially since you refuse to use your quirk on him. It’s basically given him a ‘get out of jail free’ card for being a brat.

💙 He really, really wants you to prank the others using your quirk. And your little miss “I’m a good girl with a special code of ethics” makes the game that much sweeter. After all, you’re just as much a villain as the rest of them. If Toga can go around swinging her knives from her fingertips, then why couldn’t you sing a little song now and then?

💙 But Dabi quickly learns that you’re just as stubborn as he is, if not more so.

💙 Even so, it’s frustrating for you because if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have put up with this level of bullshit. The persuasion, the flirting, the school-yard level dares… the man has no shame and tries every tactic in the book to try to get what he wants from you. What makes it even worse is that a secret part of you enjoys his mischief. His ideas are tempting sometimes. Especially when the other league members annoy you.

💙 On top of all that, he is strangely alluring, even with his scars. And more importantly, the ‘song’ his body gives off is, well, a pleasant one to say the least.

💙 Every person has a ‘musical aura’ more or less, a small symphony of heartbeats, breaths, and something more… ephemeral. It comes through in the way they move through the environment, in the way the air particles are displaced around them and vibrate with their energy.

💙 And for some reason Dabi’s song is practically intoxicating, just like his sharp blue eyes that always seem to pin you down, heavy lids held up by a cocky smirk.

💙 The two of you reach an impasse in your battle of wills, an unspoken stand-off that never wanes. And it’s upon this competitive dance that the two of you begin to build some strange sense of camaraderie.

💙 He’ll eventually give up on his desire for pranking his comrades when he sees you use your quirk on heroes. But not just any hero, of course…

💙 Imagine Dabi’s glee when you use your song quirk to make Endeavor literally dance as the large man’s face flushes red with rage. It was intended to keep him busy while the League made their escape. But it makes it all over the news of course, and becomes viral online for months. The laughter that the two of you share when you get back to the hideout lasts for hours as you watch the news replay the scene over and over it. It really never gets old.

💙 Oh man, does he like you even more now. You’re his new favorite person. And he finally stops harassing you about using your quirk on the League members, instead finding much greater enjoyment in targeting different heroes together.

💙 There will come a time that he’ll catch you on one of your many insomnia-induced nights. It’s a hard one, sleep being kept at bay by the musical cacophony surrounding you, despite your obvious exhaustion. Your strength finally shatters, and you break down into tears in your room in frustration.

💙 Guess who ends up knocking on your door?

💙 Of course Dabi heard you. For months he’s been listening to the pacing of your feet or your frustrated sighs through the thin, old walls. It’s almost become a lullaby to him by this point, a way for him to know that you’re safe and sound… more or less.

💙 “What’s wrong, doll?” he’ll ask, as he stares down at your tear-streaked face. “I can hear ya through the walls, so don’t gimme any of your bullshit excuses.” Anyone else would hear the mockery in his voice, but for you with your quirk, you can hear the song of caring weaved through them, a hidden secret that you’re sure even he doesn’t realize is there.

💙 He won’t wait for an answer as he enters your personal space and makes himself comfortable.

💙 His sudden presence and that comforting familiar song it brings with it soothes more than you’d like to admit.

💙 But you do admit it. You admit to everything. The fatigue you feel, the way your quirk makes you suffer, and how for some reason, the song of him puts you at ease, drowning out the other noise. It’s like your inner radio is tuned just for him. Normally you wouldn’t admit to any of this of course, but you’re well past the point of exhaustion now, and your brain isn’t running as smoothly as it normally would. So what did it matter if you told him everything? You really didn’t have the strength to care anymore.

💙 “Your quirk is fuckin’ weird.” he admits. Then a grin will spread across his face. “You like my ‘song,’ huh? C’mere.”

💙 He’ll have you lay down with him on your bed and hold you close to him, your head on his chest as he rests his chin in your hair. “Does it help?” he’ll ask.

💙 Shockingly, it does. His music surrounds you, and you close your eyes as you let it cover you like a warm blanket. Everything else seems to fall to the wayside, your tired brain only able to focus on one melody - his. Before you can even nod in response, you’re fast asleep.

💙 It’ll become a habit for you two now… On particularly hard nights, he’ll keep you company and hold you. And maybe… maybe he’ll start letting you keep him company when he has hard nights too.

#Arv's 750 Followers Event #Dabi x reader #dabi x reader hcs #dabi x reader headcanons #dabi hcs #dabi headers #dabi sfw #dabi humor #dabi fluff #soft dabi

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt.1)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST Summary: The two heroes step into a floral boutique, seeking blooming flowers for each other. Instead, they find you, the most precious rose of them all. In noticing just how much such a bright environment seems to take a heavy toll on you, they take it upon themselves to unearth the reasons why - and how to fix it, fix you.

(5.1k words)

Warnings: reader experiences anxiety, mild panic attacks

Friday nights were by far the most strenuous, challenging your mental fortitude to deal with some less than patient customers, along with the physical strain being put on your body to offer the best service possible.

Located in a convenient little building on the first floor was the bustling floral boutique where you were currently being worked far beyond your limits. It was the end of the week and customers were steadily rolling in, new ones entering just as others departed. All arriving for the sole purpose of purchasing a lively arrangement of blooming flowers, neatly accented with variations of greenery and berry-type vegetation.

Amongst the organized chaos of traffic, you were frantically trying to assemble the perfect customization of greenery for each shopper, wrapping it neatly in delicate paper or plastic and string. Applying the finishing touches, you returned to the front counter to hand off the bouquet in exchange for cash or credit, subtly observing the customers' pleased reaction to such an impressive display of flora.

In these reactions to your handiwork did you take pride in your otherwise mediocre occupation, serving as more than enough motivation to push on. However, it was all thanks to your quirk in which you were able to produce such a high quality of service.

Based on society’s standards, your quirk was almost laughable with how weak it was. The ability to support the growth of all types of plants, and maintain their health, titled Nurture. The smaller the plant, the easier it was for the growth to be accelerated. Unfortunate drawbacks did include the strain on your physical health, causing your body to grow more tired with excessive use. 

So, here you were nearing the end of your shift in the boutique, situated at the back of the shop slumped over a worktable while supported by a rickety wooden stool. Friday nights being date night for many, you had to put together more bouquets than you could keep track of in the last five hours. And thanks to your unrelenting desire to make every customer pleased with your work, you’d gone and used your quirk on each bouquet to give it a healthy, blooming appearance that none other could produce.  

It was nearing 8 o’clock at the moment and all you could think about was the sweet release of unconsciousness that sleep could provide when you heard the telltale jingle of the front door opening. Dragging yourself off the stool and to the front counter, you observed the new customer examining the display of small to medium sized plant pots on the shelves. There were no other shoppers in the store at the moment, leaving the sound of the radio playing quietly behind the counter and the static hum of an air purifier to envelope the room.

After another minute or so of perusing, the new customer made his way to the front counter, where you had occupied yourself with tidying up a few scattered ribbons from a previous arrangement. Looking up, you greeted him with a friendly “Good evening, what can I get for you tonight?”

The man had long black hair tied up in a half-bun, a calm but tired expression plastered across his face as he briefly glanced to the small trinkets on display on the counter before looking back at you.

“Just a simple bouquet, please.”

You couldn’t help but notice the fairly large scar under his right eye as he spoke. Must’ve been pretty painful, you thought before quickly responding. 

“Alright, and do you have any preferences on flora type and size of the arrangement sir?” One thing you valued about your job was the reason why people came to make purchases. Although not seriously interested in relationships yourself, you still adored the thought of being able to have such a wholesome impact on something as innocent as love. For this reason you always maintained a bright personality when dealing with shoppers, hoping to convey without words how happy you were to support them in what many would deem a daunting endeavour. 

“Just a small bouquet is fine, I trust you’d be better at choosing the flowers than me so you can decide what goes in it.” He gave a gentle smile and proceeded to wait as you typed in the order on the desktop.

“Okie dokie, it’ll take me about five minutes to put everything together. You can take a seat if you’d like or check out our catalogue for upcoming seasonal arrangements.” With that you politely excused yourself and headed towards the room in which all the live greenery was stationed, straw woven basket in hand. It was a space just towards the back of the shop, closed off with glass sliding doors to maintain the perfect temperature so as not to wilt the more delicate foliage.

Briefly glancing in the direction of the customer, you saw he had moved to sit down in the small waiting area, looking down at the phone in his hand. He wore a black long sleeve sweater with a white undershirt just barely peeking out at the collar, along with a pair of black, generally form fitting pants. He seemed to be quite stoic, with an almost practiced calm nature. You wondered what kind of person had woven their way into his heart without being deterred by such an intimidating initial appearance. 

Returning to the task at hand, you began making an assortment of flowers with other smaller, complementary pieces of plant life. Delicately pulling each choice from their stand and placing them into the basket, you decided that the current selection should be satisfactory. Sliding open the doors of the greenery room, you made your way back to the front counter, setting the basket down next to the assembly station.

“Excuse me, sir? Could you please take a moment to look at the selections before I wrap them up?”

The man looked up from his phone, offering a quick “Of course,” before making his way in front of the work station where you were currently stood behind.

He momentarily looked over the array of flora, hands in his pockets, before lightly nodding. “That looks perfect to me.”

You smiled slightly more at the approval. “Great, now for the wrapping―is there a certain colour or material quality you had in mind. We also just added some new ribbons to our current selection if you’d like to take a look at that.”

“Unfortunately, my partner is the creative one in the relationship. So once again I’m going to need you to make that decision.”

You always enjoyed the challenge of adapting to these kinds of situations, putting something together based on little information. It always seemed to work out, so you had no objections with his request.

“No worries,” you began as you pulled out a sheet of paper, coloured with a soft muted yellow, overall bringing out the whites of the flowers “plenty of customers ask the same thing so I’d like to think by now I’m at least a little capable of making the right decisions.” As you worked with moving the greenery into place, he continued with the idle conversation.

“I’d imagine you do just fine, but I suppose we’ll see once I give it to them.” He let out a small huff, almost a chuckle as you proceeded to tie a thin white ribbon around the base of the bouquet a few times before pulling it into a bow.

“Well, nothing makes me happier than to see that I’m making people happy.” You pick up the bouquet and move to the register, ringing up the cost of the arrangement, the customer following suit. “So, if they enjoy it you’re more than welcome to stop by and let me know.” You sheepishly smile at him as he hands over the payment in cash.

“I’ll make a note of that, thank you.”

You glance at the clock on the wall, seeing you only had an hour left before your shift ends. Inwardly, you decide that you can handle a little more physical strain to use your quirk on the flowers. After all, this man had been kind enough not to be pushy like so many people had been with you today, and you even got to have complete freedom over the arrangement.

“I’m gonna grab some flower food in the back, I’ll just be a minute.”

He nods as you scoop up the bouquet in your arms, making your way through the large doors towards the back of the room.

You set the bouquet down on the workbench and bring your hands to hover just above the greenery. Concentrating, you will yourself to produce the remaining energy you can muster to treat the flowers. It takes a few seconds, but dimly your hands begin to emit a warm, yellow glow. You watch as the blooms become more vibrant, surging with life while other smaller plants become more plump, as if they had just been picked. 

Satisfied with your work, with a new sense of exhaustion threatening to make you collapse if you're not careful, you return to the counter―of course not forgetting to grab the packet of flower food on the way there. 

Handing over the bouquet, you offer a warm “Have a nice evening, sir.”

“You too.” He gives another quick smile, and with that he walked out of the boutique, flowers in hand.

―――

The rest of your shift went pretty smoothly, the last hour usually having the least amount of traffic. You only had to deal with one more rude customer, which you were grateful for. Even then you still forced yourself to use your quirk on their order, not being able to deny yourself the validation of good service.

By the time you clocked out it felt as if your limbs weighed a thousand pounds each. Fridays were always like this, and you dreaded it each week. However that still didn’t stop you from doing what you know best, regardless of the toll it was taking on your health.

A long time ago you decided that no matter what you wouldn’t work Saturdays due to a certain incident which involved you passing out in the back room, only for a coworker to find you thirty minutes later when an angry customer began repeatedly ringing the desk bell because there was nobody out front to assist them.

You thought back on that time as you walked home that night, however daydreaming only served to make you more delirious, causing you to trip over a rock and stumble a bit before finding your sense of balance. 

Choosing to focus on your surroundings instead, you slowly made your way back to your apartment building. Although excruciatingly painful to do so, you heated up some leftovers and properly got ready for bed instead of opting to immediately crash onto your mattress.

Sleep came almost instantly, and you remained in your incapacitated state until 1 pm the next day.

―――

The weekend went as soon it came, and once again you found yourself back at the flower shop on Monday, tying the strings of your apron around your back. The days leading up to Friday were naturally not that busy, which you were thankful for. If they were you probably wouldn’t have enough energy by the time that nightmare of a weekday rolled around.

When the end of the week finally arrived, every part of your being desperately wished it didn’t. Thursday night had unfortunately zapped you of most of your your strength thanks to a serious incident with shipping. 

On these nights the place where your boutique gets their plant life from sends in an extra shipment for what your coworkers had deemed “Flower Friday.” The normal stock would run out before the end of the night without it, so at the end of your shift you patiently awaited for the shipping truck to arrive.

However, once it did the driver and you made the realization that the shipment had taken heavy damage in transit thanks to improper packaging. Cursing inwardly, you still accepted the cargo, knowing you’d have to use your quirk to repair the foliage.

That was exactly what you did, leaving yourself utterly burnt out by the time all the damage was repaired, similar to how you would be by the end of those long Friday shifts.

But you were stubborn, and would not let a little fatigue when you got up the next day to get ready for work stop you. No, instead you dragged yourself out of bed, making a resolution to hold off on using your quirk with a few bouquets here and there to save your energy.

And yet, when the time came to add the finishing touches on each completed arrangement, you decided it was worth the suffering to see the pleased looks on your customer’s faces, and the ideas of how it’ll make their night just a tiny bit more perfect.

Now it was 8:30 pm, and you were fighting every excruciating urge to not black out where you sat, that being on the old wooden stool in the back room.

You almost didn’t register the sound of the front door bells rattling against each other as another customer made their way into the shop. Somehow you willed yourself out of the stool, swearing you saw black spots in front of your vision for a few seconds before arriving at the front counter.

You still genuinely wanted to be in good spirits for your customers, so you pulled a tired smile on your face and looked up to greet the customer.

“Good evening sir, what can I―,”

Stopping mid sentence, your brain processed your lagging thoughts for you to realize the shopper was the same man from last Friday who had been extremely relaxed with how you handled his purchase, much to your appreciation.

“Oh hey, you were here last Friday right? How did your partner find the bouquet?”

The voice you heard respond wasn’t from the person you had just addressed, but another man standing next to him. In your fatigued state it took you until that moment to process his presence. He had long blond hair pulled back into a bun, sporting a black leather jacket, loose white button up and black jeans. Adorned with an expensive looking watch, rings and a thin chain around his neck, the man spoke up.

“So you’re the pretty little songbird who put that sweet bouquet together? Well, his partner thought it was just rockin, ain’t that right Shouta?” He slung an arm around the shoulders of the man next to him.

Once again, your brain running on fumes caused severely delayed reactions, ending with you standing there trying to comprehend the playful compliment sent your way, and how this man was the partner in question for a few seconds. A faint blush appearing on your cheeks, you responded. “Ah yes, I suppose I am. I'm so glad to see you enjoyed it that much.”

The man who you now know to be named Shouta sighed slightly. “He insisted that I bring him here to meet you and get another bouquet. However I’m sure you’re exhausted after a long day so feel free to decline his request.”

To that you gave a lighthearted chuckle, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “As if I’d ever deny someone service after seeing how well it was received last time. What can I do for you sir?”

The blond maintained a grin, responding: “Well first you don’t gotta call me “sir” sunshine, Hizashi is just fine. Secondly, I thought I’d get my sweetheart here some flowers to return the favour.”

He’s probably just a naturally affectionate person, you thought to yourself in contemplation of his forward response. 

“Sounds good, any preference on flora and arrangement size?” You pulled up the terminal on your desktop for filing orders while the blonde continued.

“How ‘bout you do what ya did last time and make whatever you want. Same size works too.”

You finish up with the order and close the terminal. “Alrighty then, it’ll take around five minutes to make selections so feel free to browse or take a seat in the waiting area.”

“Thanks angel.” Hizashi gave a small wink before occupying himself with a pamphlet on flower upkeep resting on the counter, bringing it back to the seating area.

Briefly glancing in Shouta’s direction, he gives an apologetic look, to which you return with a warm smile before grabbing your basket and heading to the greenery room.

Once inside you take a deep breath, not realizing how shallow your breathing had gotten. Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it. 

You were never one to be comfortable with receiving affection, something about it always making your heart race for no good reason. It was anxiety that you couldn’t seem to control no matter how long you spent trying to become stronger in these situations. 

Moving on, you start selecting flowers here and there, opting for a darker colour scheme for Shouta, seeming as if he was a much more mellow person than his boyfriend who would appreciate something less flashy. You figured the classic rose would be a good option, choosing the blooms modified to have a much darker crimson colour than the natural type. Accenting it with small white flowers and leafy stems of greenery, you walked out of the room, satisfied with the variety.

Upon returning you see Shouta and Hizashi had already walked up to the assembly station, talking to themselves while they waited for you to return. 

Coming up to your side of the counter, you set the basket of foliage down for them to examine. Despite your exhaustion that’s beginning to become quite alarming as you feel yourself repeatedly growing lightheaded, you eagerly await their reactions; specifically that of the man who’s supposed to receive the flowers.

“Exactly what I had in mind, well done (y/n).”

The use of your first name catches you off guard, having normally been referred to “miss” or the occasional rude “lady” by most of your customers. A confused look plasters across your face for a split second, only for your brain to finally register oh right, you're wearing a name tag, idiot.

“Lovely, I suppose I shouldn’t ask about wrapping either and just get started?” 

“You know it songbird,” replied the blonde.

With that you started the assembly, turning around to the wall of wrapping to make a selection. You chose a transparent plastic, lightly tinted grey, with a black pattern of lace towards the bottom. Pairing it with a thin gold ribbon, you returned back around to lay out the materials.

“Honestly though, ya barely know Shouta but you still hit all the right notes with these. You’re pretty damn good at―wait, is that my radio show playing over those speakers?”

Stopping at the question, you look up before glancing behind you at the radio which was playing fairly quietly in the background. You remember hearing earlier that the show tonight was pre recorded because the host had some special plans tonight that he couldn’t miss. Which then led you to the understanding that oh god the host was here in your flower shop, and this was part of those unmissable plans.

Turning back to face the two men, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, face draining of colour in the process. Standing in front of you was the pro hero himself, Present Mic, buying flowers for his boyfriend. Like a domino effect happening in your brain, this epiphany led you to connect that his boyfriend was the same man you’d seen quite a few times in the media alongside the voice hero, known as Eraserhead.

Now, you didn’t have a fear of pro heroes, because who would be afraid of such upstanding people, living their life only to protect others. No, what you did have a fear of was people who were in the slightest way intimidating. Call it social awkwardness or just another one of the many things that give you severe anxiety, but knowing how important these two men were in comparison to you nearly had you passing out right then and there. 

But of course doing that would only make you feel worse, so instead you managed to steel yourself enough to stay conscious, which would hopefully last you until the end of this god forsaken Friday night.

“O-Oh, yeah it is actually. I like to keep it on Friday nights to combat the boredom when things start to slow down. It’s a really good show.”

Wait, should I tell them I know they’re pro heroes? Would that make it weird? Would it be weird not to say anything and lie about it?

Your thoughts ran at a million miles per minute while you attempted to control the fast paced thudding of your heartbeat. Why is this bothering me, it’s not like they’re not being friendly. Please just calm down.

As if sensing your growing uneasiness due to the silence, Shouta spoke up. “It’s nice to hear someone can stand his blaring.”

“Aw baby, don’t be like that.” Hizashi playfully nudges him while you resume your work, motioning to cut off the ribbon from the roll. He continues. “Well, in any case at least now I know I’ve got a cute lil’ fan listening in on my show every week.”

Awkwardly, you stammer out a quiet “N-no problem, I guess.”

Not fully paying attention to what you were doing anymore thanks to the uncontrollable swirl of thoughts muddling your brain, you manage to nick yourself on the scissors you were holding in an attempt to sever the ribbon from the roll. Drawing your hand back quickly from the blade, you observed a small bead of blood forming over the cut.

“Ah, dangit. Sorry about that, I’ll be right back…” Your sentence trails off as you turn and leave the two to tend to the cut when a hand wraps around your wrist, effectively spinning you back to face them. You let out a small yelp in shock, looking up wide eyed to see that Shouta had produced a thin container from his jacket, setting it on the counter. He proceeded to grab a tissue from the box laying askew next to a small display, before bunching it slightly and applying pressure to the wound.

“I apologize, it was our fault for distracting you from your work.” After a few more seconds of pressure, he releases your hand to open up the small container, pulling out a bandaid from it.

“Really, i-it’s not a big deal.” Somehow you manage to squeak out a few words of consolidation, feeling as if it was your fault to burden them by clumsily hurting yourself. Before you can manage to make any more protests, a pang of fatigue washes over you. Adrenaline, you presume, that had just faded after being startled by the cut and Shouta’s actions leaving your legs shaking weakly beneath you.

You gripped the edge of the counter for support with your uninjured hand, letting the erasure hero apply a bandaid over the cut.

“This idiot has a habit of rushing into fights without a plan, and naturally gets injured quite frequently.” He motioned to Hizashi with a nod in his direction. “It’s because of that I started keeping bandages on me at all times.”

The idle chit-chat helped calm your nerves, distracting you from what just happened. Unfortunately, it was obvious that at least physically there was something wrong.

“Ya doin’ alright there songbird. Lookin a lil’ faint…” Hizashi eyed your paled and slightly shaky form with worry.

“What? Oh, of course―it’s just been a really long night.” You chuckled dismissively as Shouta finished with the bandage, letting you resume your work. 

This time you carefully handled the scissors, not getting too close to your fingers as you severed the ribbon.

“I mean no offense when I say this, but I have to agree with Hizashi. You look really exhausted, is this just from work?”

Your eyes flutter up to the two men, both awaiting a response with a mix of concern and something you couldn’t quite identify across their faces. Quickly looking back down in hopes of doing so lessening the growing anxiety building, you contemplate what to say next.

Do I tell them that I use my quirk at work? Would it make them stop worrying if I dismissed how dead I probably look? I don’t want to come off as someone who just complains all the time.

Finishing with the ribbon, you reply. “It’s just, you know...end of the week fatigue. Nothing to worry about.” You force a warm smile, hoping it convinces them as the obvious exhaustion in your voice surely wouldn’t.

Before the two can interrogate you any further, you dismiss yourself to the back room with the bouquet to retrieve a packet of flower food. Of course, your real intention is to utilize your quirk for what was hopefully the last time that night.

You stared at the bouquet laying in front of you on the workbench, hands lightly hovering over the blooms. With unconsciousness threatening your already weakened form so closely, you ponder for a moment if nurturing the greenery is really worth it, or even possible. They look healthy, and if it weren’t for your insanely high standards, nobody would likely bat an eye at the quality.

But alas, the desire to make people happy was much stronger than your concern for self-preservation, so you shoved any negative thoughts out of your mind and did your best to concentrate. 

As usual on nights like these, it took a few seconds to activate your quirk, but soon enough the familiar glow began to emit from the palms of your hands. The rose petals took on a new sense of life with your help, even growing in size ever so slightly along with the other miscellaneous plants. Pleased, you finished up, letting your hands steady you against the table for a few seconds longer than normal. 

Aside from the mildly increased shakiness in your legs, it seems your physique was otherwise the same as it was before you started. Grateful for this reality, you picked up the flowers and grabbed some flower food, making sure not to rush yourself on the way back for fear of tripping over your own two feet. 

The two men were once again awaiting your return, this time at the cash. 

Trying not to sigh too loudly while maintaining a polite smile, you handed the bouquet to Shouta and began to ring up the order on the register. Hizashi pulled out his wallet and handed over a cash payment. While you desperately tried to do mental math to give him back his change, the erasure hero spoke up.

“Listen (y/n), even though you might not admit it to us, I know burnout when I see it. You clearly take pride in your job but that doesn’t mean you can neglect your health like this.”

You froze in place at the sudden accusation, tonight will be the death of me. Handing the change to Hizashi, you acknowledged Shouta. “I really am fine, and I’m doing what I love so a little tiredness is worth the reward.”

Shouta simply sighs at this, letting his partner attempt to get through to you. “Okay sweetheart, but when ya look like you're about to pass out it worries us, ya know?”

“Well thanks for the compliment, but I have to insist. This is just more important than any unfortunate side effects of the job.” You blame it on the prolonged exposure to an extreme lack of energy, but you were starting to feel irritable at the display of troubled sentiments, or maybe it was more so an uneasiness at the blatancy of it. Either way, you were glad when they finally finished up with their purchase.

Maintaining eye contact that would send you crumpling if you looked any longer, Shouta made his peace with your resistance for now. “Fine. At least promise that you’ll go straight home when your shift ends. In your state doing more than necessary would just be irrational, not to mention how dangerous it can get around this time.” 

Acknowledging the both of them, you spoke. “I will, I hope you enjoy the flowers.”

Dropping a bill you couldn’t quite distinguish into the tip jar, Hizashi flashed you a smile. “We ready to rock Shouta?” He was returned with a nod, and the two began moving towards the front door. Just before the two left, the blonde called out. “You take care of yourself, ‘kay?” 

“Of course, Goodnight.” With a small wave to see them off, you finally were able to breath as the sound of the door shutting and the all too common static noise of the boutique filled the room, no other customers in sight.

Lifting your head to examine the clock hanging on the wall, you saw that it was already 8:50 pm. How on earth did it take me twenty minutes to do one order? They usually take me ten at the most. You took into account your less than ideal state, and the accident with the scissors, coming to the conclusion that those events along with the bits of conversation exchanged were more than enough to set you back.

Resolving that there weren’t going to be any customers later that night, as closing was at 9:00, you began cleaning up the shop.

You couldn’t exactly remember the time between cleaning and finally taking account of the money in the register along with tips, but at this point you didn’t care.

Emptying the jar onto the counter, you looked over the haul. Loose change mostly, a generous five dollar bill here and there and what is that.

Picking up a bill that by far stood out amongst the pile, you identified that it was worth one hundred dollars. You stared in disbelief for what felt like hours, but it was only about a minute, before returning it to the pile and adding up the total, putting the money away. 

The delirious state that was only getting worse didn’t allow you to speculate who the extremely generous customer was. Rather, you finished up the final tasks to close up shop.

Finally hanging up your apron and pulling on your jacket and bag, you made your way out of the front entrance and locked the doors behind you.

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere eraserhead #yandere eraserhead x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere hizashi yamada x reader #yandere present mic #yandere present mic x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha x reader

[vodkassassin]

Ok let me set the scene: SQQ had grown used to his multiple layers of clothes, and it was never a problem untill the day he and (your closen love interest) decided it was time for papapa, que the twenty minutes of SQQ instructing how to carefully take off his each and every layer. The steamy vibes slowly disapear. The curtains close.

I know you wanted this to be steamy, cousin, but I slapped platonic cucumberplane onto it instead and it turned into a big Mess of Feelings instead of romantic comedy 😅 my bad! @overlordmoth

—

The first time Shen Yuan is forced to attend a inter-sect banquet is memorable, if nothing else. It doesn’t even have anything to do with the event itself, but what happened afterwards.

The food was alright. He’s been spoiled, he thinks, by his adorable disciple’s god-tier cooking, because though the organization committee had gone all out and hired the fanciest of catering staff, the food itself was… he wouldn't go so far as to call it disappointing, per say, but it had been a bit bland when he’d tried it. He finished off his meager plate of appetizers and resolved not to touch any other dish thereafter. He’ll just eat a meal when he gets back to his peak.

Luckily, inter-sect conferences aren’t a constant occurrence. They only happened once every few years, as a way for the many sects of xianxialand to share information and gossip. Shen Yuan has had two years now, to get used to being Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu, and he’s grateful for the extra time he was given to learn his character before he was forced to debut into such a public setting, where Shen Jiu has long-since created himself a reputation.

Much like the reputation amongst his own sect, everyone in the cultivation world seems to know how Shen Jiu had been. Tonight is the first time since his fever (and Shen Yuan’s transmigration) that Peak Lord Shen steps into the limelight and shows exactly how drastically he has changed in character.

It doesn’t go as terribly as he expected it to, honestly.

When he’d first entered the hall, the amount of stares that had immediately zeroed in on him and began dissecting his every movement was… overwhelming, in a way. Shen Yuan is used to stares. He has to be, just to walk around his own peak. His disciples are nosy, gossipy young masters and maidens. For all that they seem to admire and respect him, there is never a single moment when Shen Qingqiu does not feel their eyes following him as he walks from one classroom hall to the next.

The banquet is much the same. Instead of his disciples, however, these are matured (in a manner of speaking) cultivators of sects not his own. Which means Shen Qingqiu has to be on the lookout and watch his own back.

Or he would have had to, had his fellow transmigrator not been in attendance as well.

He supposed he’s lucky, that all the peak lords were required to attend this ridiculous party.

He spends the first ten minutes or so proving to these cultivators that, though Shen Qingqiu has obviously changed, his tongue is still just as acerbic and barbed as it had been before, perhaps even more creatively so now that he’s changed. It puts strained, polite smiles onto the faces of men and women who had approached him in attempts to size him up and find a hand hold for themselves.

Joke’s on them.

As pleased as he is to discover them just as easily taken down a peg or two as his own sect members, Shen Qingqiu grows exhausted of this game rather quickly. Once he sends the last cultivator away with their tail between their legs, he snaps his fan closed with a flick of his wrist and turns on his heel before the next can even think to approach him.

It’s out of character, apparently, for Shen Qingqiu to throw the towel in when the first hour hasn’t even passed. Raised eyebrows and confused eyes follow him as he steps off to the side and sidles up to where the only other millennial in this world is leaning against the far wall of the hall, cradling a cup of tea in his hands and staring at the floor likely in the hope that no one will come speak to him.

As much as he whines that he never gets as much attention as the other peak lords, Shang Qinghua always prefers the sidelines. All the better to remain unnoticed, that he may more efficiently observe their guests without them realizing that the An Ding peak lord’s eyes see far more than any of them could ever think.

When Shen Qingqiu leans his back against the wall beside him, Shang Qinghua gives a startled jolt. His tea sloshes in its cup, thankfully not spilling over, and he raises wide eyes to meet Shen Qingqiu’s look of ridicule.

“Ah….” For once, his friend seems lost for words, and Shen Qingqiu resists the urge to frown at him. “What’s up?”

“If I’m going to make it even a single hour in this party, much less the full ten it’s scheduled for, then I’m going to need someone to listen to me complain.” Shen Qingqiu begins succinctly. “As my bro, that’s your job.”

Strangely, Shang Qinghua seems to perk up at this. He swirls his tea around — and from the sharp scent that wafts upward to Shen Qingqiu’s nose, tea isn’t the only thing in that cup — and casts Shen Qingqiu a cheerful smile.

“A party isn’t a party until you’ve made fun of every single partygoer behind their back at least twice,” his fellow peak lord agrees.

Shen Qingqiu smirks at him.

He snaps open his fan to cover it when he hears a few murmurs of shock from the people who are still watching him like hawks for any sign of difference between him and Shen Jiu. It’s so fucking tiring.

Shang Qinghua huffs a quiet laugh and shoots him a look of sympathy.

“How many bodies do you think you can help me hide before someone notices that guests are beginning to disappear?” He asks nonchalantly, and his mouth curls into a more genuine smile behind the safety of his fan when Shang Qinghua’s shoulders start to shake with laughter.

“Don’t ask me that,” the slightly shorter man breathes out in mirth, eyes bright. “Between the two of us, we can absolutely make it happen. It’s best not to even tempt it.”

“As you say,” Shen Qingqiu sighs despondently, fluttering his fan before his face. It’s beginning to grow a little too warm even in the huge, cavernous banquet hall. That’s what happens when you shove an entire crowd of people into the same room together. It gets stuffy.

The banquet passes a little quicker than it would have otherwise, with Shang Qinghua by his side to exchange quite jokes and banter with. A particular, good-natured target for them both is Liu Qingge, who’s squirelled himself into a different corner of the hall with three jars of alcohol and whose grave glare is enough to chase off anyone who’d wish to speak with him. The poor man just isn’t built for socializing. At least it’s clear that there’s someone who’s having a worse time here than Shen Qingqiu is. It might be mean, but it makes him feel better nonetheless.

It’s nice to have someone who actually understands every meme and pop culture reference Shen Qingqiu slips into his mockery of the banquet guests. The only issue is having to smother his real, genuine laughter when Shang Qinghua comes back at him with something actually hilarious. It would surely rock the cultivation world to its very foundation if Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu burst into laughter in the middle of an inter-sect banquet for all to see.

Even with the allowances he’s slowly acquired for himself in the time since he disabled the OOC lock, his martial siblings would certainly send for Mu Qingfang to check him over.

Still, the comfortable atmosphere of mockery aside, several hours is still several hours, and by the time Shang Qinghua is down to the dregs of his seventh cup of tea (plus the obvious pick-me-up he adds to it), Shen Qingqiu is incredibly fucking done with this entire farce.

Opening his fan to conceal his face, he leans over slightly into his friend's space and quietly says, “You wanna blow this popsicle stand?”

The clear effort it takes Shang Qinghua not to wheeze is gratifying. “Are we even allowed to do that?”

“We’re peak lords,” Shen Qingqiu says, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “We can do whatever the fuck we want. And, speaking as a millennial — who’s going to stop us, really?”

Good thing they’d dissolved into speaking English three hours ago. If someone heard the cold, and graceful Lord Shen verbally curse then he’d probably be forced to undergo another test for possession with Wei Qingwei when they all got home. Annoying as hell, those things. They took hours and he wasn’t even allowed to read to pass the time!

“Point,” Shang Qinghua admits.

“Plus,” Shen Qingqiu raises his fan up a bit higher to hide his entire expression and makes a face. “I, uh…. need a favor, from you.”

Shang Qinghua blinks over the rim of his teacup at him. He stares at him for a long, wordless moment, and then his eyebrows shoot up.

“The peerless peak lord Shen,” he says lightly, mouth quirking, “needs help—?”

“Airplane.”

“—from little ol’ me?”

“Imma gut you,” Shen Yuan mutters, fan fluttering.

Shang Qinghua beams at him. He pushes up off the wall and steps over to the nearest table to set his now-empty cup on its surface.

“Yeah, okay,” the man says.

Appeased, yet miffed, Shen Qingqiu raises his chin up and snaps his fan closed sharply enough to make a noise. “Good.”

They leave. There’s a multitude of stares that follow in their wake, from both strangers and their own martial siblings across the hall, but neither of them pay them any mind, aside from the way Shang Qinghua’s shoulders raise defensively almost on instinct. A nervous habit that the man will probably never rid himself of.

Three minutes later, they’ve closed themselves away in Shen Qingqiu’s guest quarters of the venue — the conferences are to last for at least three days, minimum, so each sect has their own pavilion for the overnight stay — and Shen Qingqiu stands grumpily in the middle of the room while Shang Qinghua collapses against the bed and laughs himself silly.

“Y-You need me to—?” The man wheezes, one hand pressed over his mouth as tears prick the corners of his eyes, his other arm holding his side. “To—?”

“Yes, it’s very amusing,” Shen Qingqiu deadpans, eyebrow twitching. “And what a friend you are, to laugh in the face of my plight. What, do you expect me to ask anyone else? Who would you suggest? Yue Qingyuan? As if! Of course I need your help, idiot!”

“I’m sure Sect Leader would be very obliging if you were to ask,” Shang Qinghua giggles from where he’s curled up on top of the blankets. He waggles his eyebrows. “Very obliging.”

“You disgust me,” Shen Qingqiu sniffs. He tugs at the front of his robes, and casts his friend a helpless look. “Seriously, how am I suppose to get out of this — this death trap?!”

Because, for such a fancy and important occasion as an inter-sect conference opening banquet, the guests are of course expected to wear their most formal robes. And, in xianxialand, formal robes mean layers. Layer upon layer upon layer. And extra baubles on top of that, like multiple-section headpieces and jewelry and gauzy, sheer, bedazzled over robes.

Truly, the opulence and over-the-topness of the cultivation world never ceases to make Shen Qingqiu raise his brow.

“I get what you mean,” Shang Qinghua chortles. “Stop your bitching, bro, I know how to escape these things, no problem.”

He hops up from the bed and makes his way over, reaching for the outside clasps of the over robe without even asking first. Shen Qingqiu does mind, holding his arms out to give his friend better access. Honestly, there is never any dignity lost between the two of them, what with their modern sensibilities. Not that Shen Yuan ever had much dignity to begin with, being a lifetime recurring hospital patient in his last life. As Shen Qingqiu, peer immortal master that he is, however, he at least has to pretend he does.

With everyone other than Airplane, that is.

“Thanks,” he says, grumbling but grateful, as Shang Qinghua carefully but without ceremony shucks off his outer robe and the one underneath it.

The man steps closer after laying those out on the bed, and tugs at the ties of the belt that hold the next robe closed. After a series of finger gymnastics that Shen Qingqiu can’t really make head nor tails of, his friend reaches up and pulls the silk down from his shoulders and reaches a hand inside to pull at the smaller ties hidden within. Which is absolutely ridiculous. Shen Qingqiu had seriously felt like he was putting together a piece of IKEA furniture when he’d originally gotten dressed. Overly complicated, the instructions were all in Swedish, and it was nearly impossible to accomplish on one’s own. But, he‘d done it!

Dismantling it all, however, was another thing entirely, and he thanks whatever higher power there is, that Airplane is here to lend him that hand without any of the awkwardness that someone with ancient Chinese sensibilities would bring.

“Thank god these things are only like, twice a decade,” he groans, leaning back so his fellow transmigrator has easier access to free him of the next stifling layer. “If this body didn’t have that handy cultivation temperature regulation magic bullshit you came up with for that scene in chapter one-hundred twenty, I’d be sweating buckets right now. Next time I get an invitation to a banquet, I’m refusing, no matter how much Yue Qingyuan puppy-dog eyes at me”

Shang Qinghua directs an odd, slanting smile down at the belt he’s working free, nimble fingers pulling and tugging gently at the ties so they don’t accidentally tighten instead of loosen.

“Yeah,” he says, quiet. “... I’ve never been a fan of banquets either.”

Shen Qingqiu holds back a scoff. And then lets it free, because there’s nobody here but Shang Qinghua, who knows him and won’t ever begrudge him for showing actual emotion. “I can’t imagine anyone being wrapped up in thirty layers and expected to socialize with sharks for ten fucking hours and actually enjoying it.”

Shang Qinghua ducks his head down, smile disappearing. He tugs the ties free and reaches up to slip another layer off of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders, but he keeps his eyes lowered. Shen Qingqiu pauses, frowning at him. Something’s off.

“...Airplane?”

“It’s not that,” Shang Qinghua shrugs helplessly, tugging at the ties of the next robe without much effort to pull them loose. There’s a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face that makes Shen Qingqiu frown deepen. “I actually don’t mind all the layers. My parents dressed me in hanfu all the time when I was a kid in my past life, so I was already used to it before I even transmigrated. The food at banquets is really good, too, and the socialization isn’t so bad once you look at it as just a political pissing contest. Banquets could be fun, really.”

“But they’re not,” Shen Qingqiu guesses, and reaches out to clasp his friends hands in his, pulling them away from his belt. They twitch in his hold, like Shang Qinghua wants to fidget, a nervous tick.

He’s only half dressed at this point, but right now he’s more concerned with the shuttering expression on Shang Qinghua’s face than anything else. “Not for you, at least. Why?”

Shang Qinghua glances nervously up at him from beneath his lashes, only to look back down again and grimace. “They’d be a lot of fun, if I wasn’t… me, I guess? Today is the first time I’ve actually enjoyed a banquet since I first started attending them as a head disciple.”

Shen Qingqiu presses his lips together as his friend lets out a mirthless, unamused laugh. He squeezes the hands he’s holding, and Shang Qinghua‘s shoulders droop.

“It was also the first time anyone’s actually stuck by me and actually talked to me, though, so,” the other finally glances up, an odd and fragile smile on his face as he chuckles weakly. His eyes are shining a bit damply, and Shen Qingqiu locks his teeth together when he sees it. “I guess it makes sense? Banquets are a lot more fun when you’re not, um… totally alone the entire time! Haha…. who knew, right…?”

Shen Qinghua shakes his head slowly. He ignores his state of undress and reaches out to draw his friend into his arms.

Sometimes, Shen Yuan wishes he’d transmigrated into Shen Jiu’s life earlier than he had. Sure, the cons far outweigh the pros, in such a situation, but at least his friend would have had someone in his corner for all the times that their martial family had snubbed him. Airplane may have brought the anxieties and insecurities of his past life along with him into this one, but Shen Yuan doesn’t doubt for a single second that in the decades that Airplane has been Shang Qinghua, they have been made much stronger (and oftentimes crippling) by the actions of the people who are suppose to stand by him and have his back.

It’s infuriating, when he lets himself think about it for too long, so usually he doesn’t. And then it smacks him right in the face, like now, and Shen Yuan feels nothing but bitter resentment toward those people who are supposedly his friend’s martial family.

Shang Qinghua makes a quietly surprised sound, but doesn’t protest. In fact, the other melts against him, hands coming up to grasp at the front of his robes, and he tucks his face into the junction between Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder and neck. He sucks in a slow, stuttering breath that makes him tremble, and Shen Qingqiu reaches up one hand to bury into the back of his friend’s hair, curling his fingers into the strands.

“It must’ve been extra rough when the original goods was still around,” he comments quietly.

Shang Qinghua shudders, and then nods his head against his shoulder. “H-He was a real jerk, but usually he was too busy verbally flaying all the guests from the other sects alive, to pay me much mind. Thankfully.” The An Ding lord lets out a wet chuckle.

Shen Qingqiu allows another frown to cinch at his brow as he pets his hand through his friend’s hair. “And none of the others ever…?”

“Why would they? I’m just — I’m just… An Ding.”

Shen Qingqiu tightens the arm that he has wound around Shang Qinghua’s waist, and his scowl depends when he feels his friend shake.

The door opens then, because of course it does. Someone peaks their head in, and who else is it going to be but Yue Qingyuan, looking for his precious Xiao Jiu, who apparently isn’t one to leave a banquet early when there are still guests left to verbally knock down several pegs and cripple the self esteem of?

The sect leader opens his mouth, and closes it. Shen Qingqiu watches impassively the journey of emotions the man’s face undergoes as he takes in the scene of a half dressed Xiao Jiu holding a trembling Shang Qinghua in his arms. Yue Qingyuan’s face is pale and there’s two splotches of bright red on both his cheeks. He looks both mortified and horrified in equal measure.

Shen Qingqiu wraps his arms tightly around the other transmigrator, holding the still-trembling Shang Qinghua to his chest, and narrows his eyes at the sect leader viciously.

“Leave,” he snaps. His best friend doesn’t deserve having anyone spying on this moment of real vulnerability.

Yue Qingyuan beats a hasty retreat. The door closes softly behind him.

Shang Qinghua gives one last shudder, before going lax in his arms, letting Shen Qingqiu hold him up with his strength alone. The An Ding peak lord reaches out his arms to wrap them around Shen Qingqiu and return the hug, clutching tightly at him.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” the man says, voice slightly choked, and Shen Qingqiu swallows thickly. It’s clear that Shang Qinghua is talking about more than just tonight’s banquet.

“Me too,” he says, and finds that he actually means it.

#svsss prompts #scumbag villain self saving system #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #vodka answers #vodkassassin fanfiction #overlordmoth

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 1

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

A/N: this story idea was created from receiving two prompts for Brian in the YouxIdol drabble game I was completing this year. In this part, you can find prompt #186, “You don’t have to answer right away. I’d wait an eternity for you.”

Word count: 2252

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

Brian cupped her cheek tenderly with one hand, smoothing out any worried lines across her forehead with the other. He smiled encouragingly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes with his heightened emotions. “You don’t have to answer right away.”

“I don’t?” Charli breathed back, knowing that her response to his question was already formed. Yet it wasn’t the right time for any love confessions right now. Despite this, her answer rushed to the back of her throat, where she tried to swallow it back down repeatedly.

Brian already knew and nodded softly to let her know of this. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”

“Isn’t that a bit too cringe-worthy?” you wondered, pausing to read the words upon the screen with a frown. It wasn’t out of character for Brian Kang and Charli Evers. And it certainly wasn’t the first cheesy line you’d thrown into Captivated either. Still, you mulled over the scene a little longer, deciding whether or not it should be removed.

“What would Charli do in response?” you asked out loud to no one in particular, a flurry of action from your fingers taking place immediately. You followed the scene until completion before taking a break, switching out of the word document and over to your Discord server.

Smiling as you scrolled through the new comments about the upcoming sequel you were in the later stages of writing for Brian and Charli, you let out a rattle of a cough from your chest, groaning at your illness dampening your mood.

“I’m trying to finish this final chapter tonight,” you spoke out into the universe, casting your eyes to the heavens for effect. “I’ve battled through this cold for a week now. It won’t take me down just yet!”

Reaching forward for more cold and flu medicine, you swallowed the capsules down with a painful gulp of water and then felt your forehead. It was hotter than before, though you waved it off as you answered a couple of messages and returned to the final part of the story.

Captivated was the second story in your new trilogy series since your last series Destined had become an overnight sensation. When you sat down to pen the soulmate idea into something more than thoughts in your head, you hadn’t expected the tale to touch so many people over the world. Nor had you believed you would follow it up with To Love You, Forever, And Always either.

You originally felt that Destined was the reason why Brian and Charli’s first story Encounter was easily shared around. The protagonists had their own charms though and you could tell the fan base for this series was different from the last. They were just as eager, however, to find out when the pair would shake free from the star-crossed lovers’ trope and finally give in to the evident love they had for one another.

“Part three it’ll be,” you surmised proudly and somewhat exhaustedly after typing The End onto the electronic manuscript. Leaning back in your chair, you finally allowed yourself to succumb to the illness plaguing you. In a moment of disillusion, your mind conjured up Brian standing before you with concern etched in his eyes. You let the novel scene play out in your head, wishing he was actually here to help you out of your writing office, down to your bedroom and tuck you into bed.

Swinging gently from side to side in your desk chair, you hummed with delight. Brian Kang was your biggest self-indulgence character. You had created Park Jinyoung in Destined to infuriate your main protagonist, but Brian was the ultimate fictional guy. He was playful and kind, caring and thoughtful. He knew when Charli needed him to stand up in her weak moments, and he fought for what he felt was right even when all odds were against him. He also allowed Charli to see his vulnerability and his honesty, gaining him many fans around the world. And if all that wasn’t enough, Brian Kang was incredibly attractive.

You had really created the holy grail of a dream man.

Laughing to yourself in your sick-induced state, you smiled lazily. “Dream men are just that, Y/N. Brian Kang would never exist in this world.”

You nodded to yourself, agreeing with the proclamation, feeling more single in the moment as you did so. It was funny really, you were a successful author of Young Adult romance novels and yet you hadn’t experienced the touch of a man, let alone any ardent confessions since your university days.

“Right, it’s time for bed,” you decided before your mood plummeted further into despair. However, your limbs felt too heavy to move and so you simply closed your eyes once more, hoping a little nap would help you regain some energy to head off to bed later on.

When you opened your eyes next, you found yourself in your darkened bedroom, smiling gently at bringing yourself to bed sometime during the night that you couldn’t remember. Sitting up slowly, you allowed your gaze to adjust to the dim morning light filtering through the small gap in the curtain, before reaching onto your nightstand for your phone.

You blinked. Instead of finding the device, you saw a kitchen bowl and face cloth resting over the edge of it.

Did you bring that with you in the middle of the night? Surely if you had been attempting to bring down your own fever, the face cloth would have been strewn somewhere in among your bedding after falling asleep with it, not neatly placed back upon the side of the bowl. Looking beyond that, you found a bottle of water with a third of the liquid missing. You did vaguely remember sipping on some water overnight, and that eased your mind from your initial confusion.

Shaking your head, and swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you placed your feet in your slippers before padding back into the office in search of your phone. Maybe you had help overnight after all, and you wanted to check if your mother had come over at your request. She had done that one year when you caught a nasty virus and couldn’t cope on your own anymore. Motherly love was definitely needed, and now that you had completed your obligations with Captivated and sent it off to your editor Lily, you would have no restrictions on who entered your creative space.

“Huh,” you said when you saw your laptop screen still open. You had a habit of closing the screen every night after turning the device off and approached it now with some confusion, trying to recollect what you last did the night before. Nothing rose to the surface immediately and you reached for your phone, blindly hitting speed dial on your mother’s number. And when her greeting rang down the receiver, you were more than perplexed.

“Hey, did you come by last night?”

“No, why?” she answered and then gasped. “Y/N, you sound awful! Did you keep working even though you were sick?!”

“You didn’t come here?” you repeated, fingertips reaching for the sticky note upon the computer screen. “Maybe it was Lily.”

“Lily is out of the country isn’t she?” your Mum reminded and you blinked several times before focusing enough to read the note you held.

 You shouldn’t have worked so hard to complete it! Your health is important too. How will I cope if you get any worse? Make sure you rest up well and drink a lot of fluids. I need my best writer in tip top shape to see where my world continues.

I made you breakfast. It’s not much, but make sure you eat before you sit down at this desk, hm?

- B.

 Dropping the note, along with letting your mouth fall ajar momentarily, you stuttered out a hasty farewell to your mum before hanging up the phone and looking to the doorway. Cautiously, you walked through your house to the kitchen where you stopped in your tracks at seeing a tea towel covering something on the bench. Gingerly peeling it back when you finally approached it, you gasped when you found several dishes underneath, along with instructions on how to heat it up.

For a split second, your mind conjured Brian up again, imagining him in your kitchen preparing all this. It would totally be just like him to make sure Charli was well fed to regain her energy from any illness.

But, you weren’t Charli Evers.

In fact, you hadn’t even based her off your personality at all, rather, a close online friend of yours who you admired a lot. So, whilst Brian would definitely go to all this trouble for Charli, you sure were clutching at straws thinking of yourself in the same situation.

Who came into your home then?

Distractedly, you heated the porridge and brewed up the tea the mystery person had prepared as well. You carried the tray of food over to your dining table when it was done and sat down before taking your first mouthful.

And then you mulled over who could possibly step into your house that had the initial B.

Maybe it wasn’t a B, you concluded when you realised no one had access to your house with that letter, even as a surname. Climbing back to your feet, you rushed to your office where you had discarded the first note and held it up to inspect the handwriting.

“It could be an R,” you mentioned out loud, then shook your head immediately. Even if the handwriting was looser than most that you knew of, it couldn’t be anything other than a B.

After examining it for a few minutes, you sat down with a huff. You’d never seen the handwriting before.

You didn’t know whether or not to be alarmed.

Had there been an intruder overnight?

Jumping back up, you persevered through the dizziness that plagued you from moving so fast, heading down the hallway to the front door. The chain was still latched and there was no sign of forced entry. Again, making your way to the back door, everything was in order.

As was every possession you owned – minus the kitchen where the food had been prepared. But even then, the dishes that had been used were rinsed and stacked by the sink.

You jumped when you heard a sudden mewl at your feet and clutched at your heart, before stooping down to pick up your cat Binks. The black cat nuzzled into you affectionately before meowing again. “I guess you want to be fed, huh?”

Walking around the counter, you stopped when you found his bowl with some food remaining. You knew Binks wouldn’t leave food overnight. Glancing at the cat, you frowned. “Who did this, Binks?”

The feline merely yawned and settled down to nap in your arms. It certainly brought the saying, cat’s got your tongue, to mind and you rolled your eyes at the infuriating situation.

Sitting down on your couch, you stared at the wall ahead of you as you tried to find an answer to all the evidence. Stroking the purring animal in your arms, you nodded determinedly.

“The only answer is that I did it in a sleep-induced state,” you announced and Binks opened his eyes to look up at you before rolling around to start licking at his back leg. You sighed. “Right, Binks?”

You were certain your cat thought you were insane. However, it was all you could find to be the answer.

“I got up and I took myself to the kitchen and prepared the ice water to cool down the fever. And went to bed. Then maybe I got up again, which is when I placed the cloth on the bowl and prepared the food. I washed my dishes, including the ones I had piling up from being too busy with work and-”

Binks leapt from your lap then, sauntering down the hallway from your side. Getting up to follow him, you ended up back in your home office, where he pounced up onto your desk, standing on the keys to your laptop. “Hey! Get off!”

Swatting the cat away from the device, you noticed that it hadn’t been turned off overnight. That was not like you at all. Logging into your account, you sat down in your desk chair and shifted back suddenly when you found a new document open.

 I bet you’re in disbelief about now, right? I guess I would be too. It wasn’t you who looked after you all night long, and did your dishes. Wow, you get behind in things when you’re focused on writing.

Don’t worry. I didn’t look around - much.

Your fever went down over a couple of hours whilst I moved back and forth helping you out. It’s the least I can do after you’ve spent so much time with me. Well, we’ve yet to officially meet.

One day.

- B (your biggest fan)

PS. I fed Binks. He really does have quite the personality.

 “Okay!” you sounded in an octave higher, laughing a little to yourself at the same time. “Someone was definitely here. Who is B and how does this person know so much personal information?!”

You were too preoccupied to realise the document to Captivated was still open behind the other one.

And instead of saying The End as it once had, it had been deleted and replaced with To Be Continued.

_________________

Part 2

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[kneipho]

Hope Springs Eternal Part 1

I shivered

palpably in response to the stimulus of this auspicious winter morning as though I were a nervous acolyte on his first day of probation.

It was that benchmark event called my Birthday.

Like Christmas and Easter they have this annular ring in every sense.

Dates and their import. I was raised to have the healthiest respect for them.

A rendezvous of another kind awaited me later in the day that was seasonal in another sense.

But that just added a certain spring to my step.

Entering my eight decade on earth I dragged that motley crew of bones about me.

Like a hod carrier carting clusters of smokeless polish coal for some imperious client.

But the mind has immense powers waiting to be tapped.

A mineral rich load, a vein of resources with targeted thoughts that were the match for any prescription medicine.

Age is but a number and they can be sung in harmony with one’s universe or jarringly and at odds.

I’m a late in life poet with lines very gingerly crafted at this point in time.

My aunt Virginia who raised me when my mother died started the revolution in my thinking.

“Your mind should be a diary.

Always take note of what’s happening around you and when it happened.

Time, dates, everything.

It always comes in useful.”

She said in that nuanced tonic sol fa accent of hers.

Virginia instilled in me this most functional regard for which I am eternally grateful.

Her words about dates and time echoed continually through the recesses of mind to my ultimate benefit.

I had the required notepad and pen at hand to record anything I could sculpt into a creative ode.

As of yet

a title eluded me but maybe something lustrous, radiant romantic would be apt.

Quite a lot has been composed already much to my surprise.

Virginia’s advice and the embryonic epic planted fertile shoots in my head as I entered the kitchen.

I called it my domain.

Structured in an algebraic fashion with proximity dovetailing elegance it resembled a gallery.

The sink and shrouded tap heads my first port of call.

Stooping over archly I filled a gleaming white plastic jug kettle for that morale boosting first cup of tea.

As I sipped my tea the insights Virginia kindly bequeathed started flooding back.

Those condensed pearls of wisdom regarding time and it’s ambience.

Optimism and cheer were her other passions.

As well as paying attention.

“Focus on your environment. There is joy in abundance.” Virginia opined.

“A treasure trove awaits for those who concentrate.” She said.

“Where there is joy there’s hope.

Time and hope are intertwined.”

Never losing a chance to stress matters time-related.

Typical Virginia logic.

I’m taking it more seriously now as my respect for that statute of limitations called life expectancy approaches.

This lady’s pointers were manfully ingested as my tea stained cup wobbled in my right hand with it’s rivulet of veins.

The tea leaves scattered wildly in that microcosm of a drinking vessel had a fleeting fascination for me.

But as I scanned my surroundings with the eye of a keyhole surgeon I couldn’t help but notice something else.

The kaleidoscope of colour filling the french panel window in front of the kitchen sink.

Window drabness red carded with the zeal of a strict umpire dismissing an offending player.

My intuition told me to brace myself for events both surprising and anticipated .

This afternoon’s engagement is to the forefront of my mind and for good reason.

Think I’ll leave the cell phone behind.

Or did I hear it go off?

My device was of the more crowded cumbersome type with stubborn square buttons that even the more dexterous hand would find difficult to navigate.

The fingers slipped involuntarily like I sometimes did on those treacherous black ice patches.

“It’ll wait. Can’t really be that important.” I said to myself.

It was one of those phones that emitted this discordant buzz when some arrant nuisance rings at the most inopportune time which is often.

“No … face the morning and it’s canvas of brittle prospect.” Speaking with eloquent pride to myself, Hamilton Lake.

Walking outside on this my 78th birthday could be seen as an obstacle course.

I’ve always had a thing about posture.

The feet must be properly positioned and ready for anything unexpected.

The steps from my house could be awkward and angular with hidden crevices.

Those rugged pockmarks gouged out by the chisel of that tyrant called the elements.

The inherent beauty of garden plants, on the other hand,

purged whatever sluggishness there was in my frame.

Their spectral tint and gravity defying droop gave my eyes an optic fillip.

Green border shrubs and yellow rose petals bore a magic that defied description.

Albeit with telltale winter stains.

But the mindfulness of gait and knowing that slippage could be fatal moderated my enthusiasm about my settings.

Onto the yard and then the slope towards town with a propensity for the occasional wobble notwithstanding.

A downward denouement laced with grit and optimism.

The verges on the fringe of each footpath were covered with tufts of flickering grass cavorting about in a light south east breeze.

Haywire brambles whose overlapping tentacles were embedded in every mound or patch.

Star shaped brown leaves as veiled cover for those sharp spines sticking out.

The bane of every bulging blood vessel.

An ice clad descent that can either capsize or upend even the most determined stride.

Ice that most deceptive gloss that far too easily masks it’s latent perils.

Irrespective I continued unabashed.

The heart, portent of fragility, bruising barometer of one’s twilight moment can be an ally.

A motivator of noble human impulse.

My rainbow tipped walking stick was my elder compass.

A bearing locator for crazy paving pavement slabs.

Those structures fractured by peculiarities of sudden temperature with their plummets and summits!

But focus though impaired was motivated by a stoic forbearance imbued with fire in the soul.

Virginia’s velvet toned voice enjoined on us at home to watch the clouds.

The wispy contours, greyed over forms, wooly frills and outlines drifting overhead.

She also warned of their penchant for unleashing torrents which could spoil the daily strolls of even the most ernest of ramblers.

Today the clouds weaved their way across that azure blue path called the sky.

Curiously enough the self same clouds added to their repertoire by the graceful skirting of rooftops and faraway rock formations on the outskirts of town.

“Clouds are a heavenly canvas. A floating exhibit of the firmament.

They inspire poets, works of art.” Virginia said.

They were doing just that in my case with aplomb.

The planned mysterious link up was never lost sight of amid Virginia’s majestic musings.

“Use your imagination or your imagination will use you. The borders between make belief and the real world must always be maintained.

Imaginings of every kind can be triggered by just about anything familiar.

They can assume a life of their own.”

Wonderful counsel from a wonderful woman.

Virginia, however, unlike some philosophers had a marvelous sense of humor but abhorred the canned, corny variety.

Although such humor couldn’t always be avoided I was mindful of her sensitivity on the subject.

Meticulously taking out that pad again I scribbled a few more lines.

It’s beginning to fill up.

The only thing that remains is to have someone to dedicate it to.

The human eye, a person’s best camera turned to the leach like ivy carpet which clung with tenacity to the grey grained stone wall narrowly to my right.

Preserving their corporeal integrity and playing their part while going largely unobserved.

Fir trees, enclosed by pavement railings and gardens had an overwhelming stillness about them.

An unyielding rooted presence.

They too are age defiant when cultivated and getting the right supports.

These trees act as filters for the dust, smoke and fumed manifestations of the modern manufacturer.

Urban heat island effect offset and mitigated.

All these details forensically noted.

A sudden wakening ensued.

“Hi there, Hamilton. Lovely morning for a stroll.”

My inner space rightly interrupted for a different reality.

“Maybe we’ll meet later at one of your favourite spots or a coffee shop.”

Local teens, Sonia and Winfred with whom I regularly crossed paths and swopped pleasantries of a deeper heartfelt kind.

They alighted from their bicycles

“It’s your birthday today isn’t it?

You’d put people half your age and mine to shame.” The young lady Sonia said.

Winfred her boyfriend agreed.

“Such generosity I rarely encountered from my own group.” I thought to myself.

Sonia, a vibrant vivacious youth whose tactful airborne words shone as brightly as her arched angelic face.

Winfred, her boyfriend had a slightly bulging chin and matted haired that looked as if it had been constantly drenched.

His was a handsomeness harrowed out by high jinx and crack of dawn capers.

After a friendly departure this couple dashed off with a daring and delight so dirigere of the young.

As well as the young at heart.

–

Sunday Submission: @mantrabay

Photograph and short story by mantrabay copyright protected.

Part two will be submitted next week with your kind permission.

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